Chapter 302: Sneaking In

Li Hun moved cautiously, one step at a time.

Ever since he was seriously injured by Chen Fei, he had done everything possible to reduce his presence. Though he was a powerful Myo Realm cultivator, he now skulked behind others, terrified of another encounter with Chen Fei.

That sword hadn’t just wounded his body—it had shattered his foundation for advancing further.

Now, Li Hun had no ambition left. He simply wanted to survive unnoticed and maybe pick up a few scraps of treasure without drawing attention.

Just as he sighed in relief…

His heart suddenly leapt into his throat.

He turned around—and froze.

That familiar grin, that familiar figure…

The sight of Chen Fei made Li Hun’s body go rigid. His vision went black.

“Hm?” Chen Fei narrowed his eyes as he watched Li Hun collapse to the ground, clutching his chest in fear.

Still pretending?

Chen Fei frowned and slowly walked over, his guard up, lightly tapping Li Hun’s body with his foot in case of a trap.

But Li Hun didn’t move—no hostility, no resistance.

“Cut the act. Don’t embarrass yourself with such cheap tricks,” Chen Fei scoffed.

Still no response.

Chen Fei crouched and placed his fingers on Li Hun’s neck—ready to strike at any moment if necessary.

But then…

His expression changed.

“He’s… dead?”

Flipping the body over, Chen Fei saw Li Hun’s ashen face, eyes wide with terror, and limbs completely stiff.

“He was scared to death?”

Even Chen Fei couldn’t help but feel a bit dumbfounded.

A Myo Realm expert—scared to death?

He checked again with his spirit vision.

Li Hun’s soul had completely dissipated—no faking, no tricks.

“Looks like he really did die from fear,” Leng Yue chimed in, having conducted her own check. Her lips curled into an amused smile.

To scare a Myo Realm expert to death with just one appearance—this was enough to make Chen Fei a legend in his own right.

“Well, this works in our favor,” Chen Fei muttered, flicking his finger.

Flames instantly engulfed Li Hun’s body, burning it to ash.

Then Chen Fei began distorting his own appearance.

However, he wasn’t that skilled at disguise, so his features only vaguely resembled Li Hun. Anyone who knew Li Hun well would recognize the fake immediately.

Leng Yue took one look, furrowed her brow, and stepped in.

“Hold still,” she said.

Though the two had already shared physical contact before, this close proximity still stirred Chen Fei slightly—her faint fragrance made him a bit restless.

But Leng Yue didn’t notice.

Her cool fingers massaged his face, reshaping his features with skillful strokes.

Finally, she nodded in satisfaction.

“Alright. That should do it.”

Chen Fei conjured a mirror from his hand and almost jumped in surprise at his new face.

“Amazing!” he gave Leng Yue a thumbs-up.

“Someone’s coming. Get ready.”

Without further chatter, Leng Yue turned into a streak of light and disappeared into the Ziqing Palace.

Her movements were so smooth, so practiced—clearly familiar territory for her.

Chen Fei smirked and shook his head.

Luckily, because he had previously injured Li Hun, his hoarse voice was easy to imitate.

The person approaching was a cultivator from the Blood Cloud Sect—someone Chen Fei didn’t recognize.

Upon seeing Chen Fei, the man froze for a moment and barked,

“Who are you!?”

Cough cough!

Chen Fei faked a raspy cough and looked up, eyes filled with menace.

The man’s expression instantly changed.

He bowed respectfully.

“Ah! Lord Li Hun! I’m Fang Jing from Blood Cloud Sect. By the Demon Lord’s orders, everyone is to gather at the central region. Please come with me!”

“Understood.”

Chen Fei replied casually, following behind at a measured distance—not too close, not too far—just enough to avoid suspicion.

Fang Jing didn’t doubt him.

Li Hun had been keeping a low profile since his injury, always traveling alone, so this behavior seemed normal.

Under Fang Jing’s guidance, Chen Fei arrived at the center of the Blood Abyss Underground Palace.

Under pressure from the Duhuo Demon Lord, Wang Fang had reluctantly handed over a detailed map of the palace.

Though the decision left him bitter, strength spoke louder than pride. Even if he felt humiliated, he had no choice but to endure.

“Looks like everyone’s arrived,”

Duhuo Demon Lord surveyed the crowd, his eyes sharp and cold. He chuckled:

“I must admit, Chen Fei runs fast. Managed to escape again. But if I catch him, I’ll make sure he tastes the agony of soul-ripping torment.”

He scanned the crowd again.

Chen Fei, disguised as Li Hun, met his gaze head-on, coughing lightly now and then to maintain his cover.

Clearly, Leng Yue’s disguise held up perfectly, and the demonic aura inside Chen Fei’s body blended seamlessly. The Demon Lord showed no suspicion.

This speech was meant to calm the group’s nerves.

After all, despite being hunted by both Peach Blossom Fairy and Wang Fang, Chen Fei had not only escaped but killed Bai Lian and the Eight Ghosts, and several Yuan Realm cultivators too.

Though Yuan Realm wasn’t top-tier, it wasn’t exactly fodder either. Chen Fei had casually slain them like weeds.

“With Demon Lord here, Chen Fei won’t escape this time!”

Wang Fang said flatteringly.

Duhuo Demon Lord nodded with satisfaction.

This underground palace was, after all, the Blood Cloud Sect’s hard-earned creation. Now that he was cutting in, resentment was inevitable.

But Wang Fang’s submissiveness pleased him.

“Open the palace. No matter where Chen Fei is, he’ll be forced inside!”

Duhuo ordered, glancing at Wang Fang.

Wang Fang nodded and walked to a stone altar.

Chen Fei’s brow furrowed slightly.

Wang Fang was a schemer. After suffering so much, it was unlikely he’d just roll over obediently.

This level of cooperation felt too suspicious.

Standing at the altar, Wang Fang’s lips curled into a cold smile.

Hidden by the glowing blood orb in his hand, no one saw his expression.

The orb had been heavily drained during the fight with Chen Fei, but Wang Fang was prepared.

He fed it refined essence from blood sacrifices, and it recovered quickly.

“Eye of the Fallen God—emerge!”

Wang Fang declared. Suddenly, a floating eyeball materialized atop the altar.

Though it was only an eye, it felt alive—its gaze swept across the crowd.

Just that alone made even the Duhuo Demon Lord’s scalp tingle. His expression shifted.

“The Eye of the Fallen God? Blood Cloud Sect actually managed to unearth that?!”

Greed flickered in his eyes.

In Duhuo’s opinion, Wang Fang was weak—and powerful artifacts didn’t belong in weak hands.

Of course, as a Demon Lord, he had to maintain appearances.

He couldn’t act rashly. Blood Cloud Sect had their own Demon Lord Patriarch. If he pushed too far, it might not end well.

Better to bide my time, Duhuo thought. I’ll find another way to take it.